


Not a Drop to Drink

by romanticalgirl



Series: Holiday Ficlets 2005 [10]
Category: Dawson's Creek
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 04:32:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 12-8-05</p>
    </blockquote>





	Not a Drop to Drink

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 12-8-05

“I come bearing gifts.” 

Joey shook her head as Pacey held up two plastic grocery bags. His hood was down low over his face with the weight of the rain and he pushed it back with his arm in an effort to bat his long lashes at her. She shook her head again and reached for the curtains to pull them closed.

“Chocolate!” He sneezed. “And I’m dying out here and, no matter how much you might enjoy my death, you really don’t want it on your conscience, do you? Or your college application?”

She sighed and released the curtains, reaching out to unlock the window. She opened in and stepped back as the wind whipped rain at her. “We have a front door, you know.”

“It’s all closed off. They were working on it when the rain hit.” He handed her the wet bags and took off his coat, draping it over the sill as he boosted himself up. His t-shirt was soaked in seconds as he clambered in, dropping to the floor and shaking his head before turning to close the window. “Since when does it rain like this?”

“Why on earth did you take your coat off?” She set the bags on the floor and went into her bathroom, grabbing several towels.

“I thought I’d cause less mess if I wasn’t soaked.” He shrugged. “Bad plan.”

“A typical Pacey Witter plan, you mean.” She tossed a towel at him and picked up the bags again, putting another towel on the floor before setting them back on top of it. She turned around and stopped as he pulled his t-shirt over his head and dropped it on his coat. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Freezing,” he answered as he toweled his hair dry.

Joey watched his muscles move, wondering for a moment when Pacey had even developed muscles. Her gaze drifted lower without her permission, noting how the wet denim clung to his skin, defining his thighs and other muscles her biology homework supplied names for. 

“You’re blushing, Potter.” His voice held the smug lilt she hated. “Is the sight of me too much for you?”

“I don’t know, Pace. Does wanting to gag count?” She picked up his shirt with two fingers and held it away from her. “I suppose you want this dried?”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt. Maybe a few of Bodie’s clothes again?” He unbuttoned his jeans as he toed off his tennis shoes. “Unless you want me to soil your lily white covers with my wet ass.”

Her gaze shot to the object of discussion as he turned away from her to slide his jeans down. He bent over slightly and she swallowed hard as his boxers – wet, clinging, white boxers – tightened at the movement. 

He turned around and she blushed again. “Enjoying the view, Potter?”

“I was wondering where my kick would have the most effect.”

“I know you, Potter. If you’re looking for effect, you wouldn’t be looking at my ass.” 

They were both silent as her eyes shot down to his waist then back up. Pacey stood still though his body responded and he turned his head, his own embarrassment obvious. “I’ll go get you those clothes.”

“Yeah. And hurry, would you? Our boys in blue haven’t managed to get the heat circulating yet.” He wrapped the towel around his shoulders and glanced around the room, at anything but her, and finally settled for leaning against the wall. Joey nodded and came closer, causing Pacey’s body to still even more, until she grabbed the pile of his jeans. 

“You want your socks done too?”

His voice was slightly strangled. “I’m good, Potter. Thanks.” 

She nodded and hurried from the room, tossing them in the dryer. Bessie was standing in the door of her bedroom and cocked and eyebrow at Joey. “Do I want to know why you’re running around with wet clothes?”

“They weren’t mine.”

“And that’s supposed to ease my mind?” Bessie asked lightly, her voice thick with laughter. 

“Shut up. Can I borrow Bodie’s sweats and a shirt?”

“They’d be a little big for you.”

“You’re not funny, Bess.”

Bessie shrugged and went to the dresser, digging out a few things. “Maybe you could just have him snuggle under your covers until his clothes are dry.”

“I mentioned you not being funny, didn’t I?”

Bessie handed Joey the clothes and held up her hands. “All right. All right. Just one word of advice, Sis?”

Joey sighed and glanced back. “What?”

“Never carry wet clothes that close when you’re wearing a t-shirt.” She laughed as Joey glanced down in horror at her own wet shirt. “Not that I think Pacey’ll mind the view.”

“I hate you both.”

Bessie nodded as Joey headed back to her room. “Sure you do, Sis. Sure you do.”


End file.
